Made For Him
by The Emcee
Summary: Dean had been made specifically for Michael. Before he was even born, the human belonged to the archangel. They belonged together. It was as simple as that. One-shot. Michael/Dean. Slash.


Title: Made For Him

Author: The Emcee

Pairing: Michael/Dean

Rating: T

Summary: Dean had been made specifically for Michael. Before he was even born, the human belonged to the archangel. They belonged together. It was as simple as that.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, actors, or the fandom.

A/N: So, this is my first _Supernatural_ fic and I'm pretty nervous about it, what with it having such a huge fandom. I just started watching the show and I'm only on the sixth season, so yeah… Well, here it goes. I hope y'all like it. R&R. Enjoy!

**Made For Him**

Dean had been created to be Michael's vessel. The archangel had known that for a long time. And he had also known that Dean would resist him at first. Ever the rebellious one, the one who would find another way to save the other humans, Dean would resist and resist. Of course, Michael knew that he would; he had spent many, many years watching Dean from on high through everything his vessel went through. But in spending so much time watching Dean, Michael had learned everything about him. Every feeling he felt, every thought that passed through his mind…Michael knew them all and he found himself fascinated by the man.

Meeting Dean in person while inhabiting a younger John Winchester changed things though, and in ways that Michael hadn't anticipated. Well, perhaps he had per se, but such thoughts had been brief and fleeting and, at the time, meaningless. After meeting Dean face to face and speaking to him, however, something stirred deep within the archangel that he hadn't felt in many, many centuries. Suddenly, he found himself wanting to possess Dean entirely, body, heart, and soul. It wasn't just enough to use the man as his vessel; Michael wanted him, all of him.

He wanted to talk to Dean, to touch him, to hold him, to kiss him, and to love him. Michael wanted to claim Dean as his and his alone and he wanted to make sure that everyone, be they human, demon, or angel, Father, Lucifer, or Castiel, knew it. But he didn't want to make love to Dean and claim him; he also wanted to simply _be_ with him, to make him happy and to spend as much as possible with the human. And he wanted Dean to love him back, to want to be with him, and to know that he belonged to Michael and that no one else would ever be allowed to touch him again.

And Dean would eventually love him, of that Michael was certain. Being the oldest of Father's angels, Michael knew things, many things, and he knew that Dean would love him. They had been made for each other after all; they were two halves of one whole and neither would be complete without the other. That much Michael had already known, but he hadn't fully understood it, he hadn't fully realized what that had meant.

After their first encounter, Michael would visit Dean in his dreams wearing young John in order to talk to the green eyed man. Just hearing his voice was enough to placate the archangel at first. As the visits continued, first once a week, and then a few times a week, and then every single night Dean slept, things changed. The conversation at first often focused on the battle he had to fight against Lucifer and how Dean was the only one he could use in order to do so because he had been made for him. But somehow, and Michael still did not understand how it happened, the conversation shifted from Dean being his vessel to other subjects. First it was family and brothers, which had made sense, and then it had been about how similar they were.

They were very similar. Both of them were older brothers and they were both loyal to their fathers. Their younger brothers were rebellious, but they couldn't help but love them. They were both strong in their own way and they carried the weight of the world on their shoulders. But they were also different. Michael was an angel and Dean was a human; Michael could easily smite a being with the snap of his fingers while Dean used silver and guns and salt and holy water. Dean wasn't as self assured or as confident as Michael was; he was broken, but the archangel didn't mind. Actually, he found that quite endearing because he knew that he could mend Dean's broke heart and soul.

The more they talked, the more Dean seemed to get comfortable with him, although he still believed whole heartedly that all angels were dicks. It was then that Michael began visiting Dean more during the waking hours instead of just in his dreams, always wearing the younger version of Dean's father. Dean wasn't sure what to make of those visits, sure that Michael was only there to talk him into allowing him take control of his body. Eventually, he discovered that that wasn't just the case. No longer was it about becoming one with his true vessel; now, it was about how much Michael loved Dean and wanted him in every way possible.

And he did mean in every way.

"You are beautiful, Dean," Michael spoke lovingly into Dean's ear as he entered his tight, hot body. He had waited so very long to claim Dean, to make love to him, because he knew it would take the man a while to understand that Michael didn't want to possess his body in order to kill his brother.

"Michael…" Dean managed to hiss out, his body clenching around the archangel's hard member.

Being inside Dean was pure bliss. Michael fit perfectly inside his vessel's body and everything within him screamed at him that this felt right. They fit so perfectly together as they made love and Michael didn't want to think about anything but the man beneath him. Enfolded in his wings, Michael's radiance warmed the entire room and only served to heighten the experience as he thrust hard into Dean's willing body. The sounds resonating from the hunter was positively pornographic and they only fueled the fire that had been burning inside the archangel for far too long.

"You're mine, Dean," Michael told him, his lips kissing a trail up his neck and to his lips. He claimed Dean's lips with a searing kiss while one hand roamed and caressed the man's body while the other stroked Dean's erect cock in time with is thrusts.

All Dean could do was gasp as Michael hit his prostate over and over again, his warm enveloping him in a soft cocoon of safety and protection and possession and love. He was always so amazed at how breathtaking Dean was beneath him, especially when he moaned and cried out, looking like a virgin on her wedding night. It had taken him some time to gain enough trust from Dean to be able to claim him in such a way. Before this, before _them_, Dean had always been a ladies' man; not even Castiel, who was far younger than Michael, had managed to turn the hunter's head. Although that was a good thing for Castiel; Michael would have had no qualms about killing to defend what rightfully belonged to him.

"Mine. You were made just for me…just for me…" Michael said, a growl reverberating in his voice. His black hair was sticking to his forehead and slicked with sweat, but he paid no heed. He merely allowed the young John Winchester to react in such as manner so that all of his attention and focus would be solely on Dean.

With one final stroke and the flick of his thumb over the head of Dean's cock, the human came into his hand and all over their stomachs. His seed coated them but Michael could only smile and kiss Dean passionately yet lovingly. In a way, Dean's release splattering onto his current vessel was like he was claiming the archangel as his own and it was that thought that brought Michael to his end. Thrusting inside Dean's hot, tight body, Michael came, emptying himself inside his vessel, his mate, his Dean.

Panting, Dean collapsed onto the bed, sweat shining on his skin, his body smelling of musk and of Michael's scent, and his face laced with pure orgasmic pleasure and bliss. He looked absolutely stunning and so very perfect. Had Michael not already known it, he would have mistaken Dean for an angel. With a soft smile on his face, Michael laid down on the bed beside the hunter and pulled him into his arms. Having just finished making love, Dean protested very little, for which Michael was grateful. After all, Dean would need his energy for later.

"Possessive, dickhead angel," Dean muttered, his voice breathless. Michael chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to Dean's forehead.

"I cannot help it that you were made for me, Dean. All I can do is act on how you make me feel," Michael told him. Dean scoffed half-heartedly.

"And I make you feel possessive and clingy?" the man asked. Michael began rubbing Dean's back. He knew of what the stresses being a hunter and trying to stop the apocalypse did to Dean and a massage was always welcomed nowadays from the archangel.

"You make me feel many things. If one of them just happens to be wanting to possess you, then so be it," he stated simply. Dean huffed.

"Stubborn ass," Dean mumbled even as he nuzzled Michael's neck.

"Rest now, Dean. You will need your strength for when I take you again," Michael said softly placing another kiss on Dean's forehead.

"I think I can manage that," Dean replied.

The mere thought of being inside of Dean again sent a jolt of lust and love coursing throughout Michael's veins. It caused his cock to twitch in anticipation for what was to come and he looked forward to it. He knew that Dean didn't understand exactly what was going on between them and he knew that it would take a while to convince the man that Michael genuinely loved him and had done so since before he was born. However, Michael was more than confident that it could, and would, be done. For now, he was content with making love to Dean whenever he could and making his vessel as happy as was possible.


End file.
